


A Simple Favor

by Jacqueline_Linsdell



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Touch Trio | Bad Friend Trio, Drama, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Hetalia Human, Hetalia Human AU - Freeform, Humor, M/M, PruAus - Freeform, Romance, spamano - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26588686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacqueline_Linsdell/pseuds/Jacqueline_Linsdell
Summary: Lovino cleared his throat. “Sorry, what did you need? I’m here with Feliciano and this call is going to come through any minute.” Okay, so empty hands weren’t a good thing. First he ran his hands through his hair. Then he crossed his arms. Then he uncrossed his arms. Then he put his hands in his pockets. “Antonio?”“Right, right, sorry.” // Antonio decides to take Lovino up on that offer to help him paint his room.The second part to a muli-part series with the Bad Touch Trio and many other characters.
Relationships: Austria/Prussia (Hetalia), South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very excited to be sharing this one- I've been hanging on to it for quite some time. This story happens right after my fic "Move In Day"- so you might want to go check that one out first! I promised I would do my best to clear up the timeline, thankfully this one very simply happens the day after my last fic. As always, feel free to leave feedback, things you'd like to see in the future, or your own experiences that you can relate to!

Antonio took a deep breath, enjoying the silence of the morning. So far, his favorite part of this new place was the backyard. Fenced in, just big enough to feel like a proper yard without so much space that it’s a nuisance. The patio was a beautiful touch; it made it worth waking up with the sun. He sipped slowly at his coffee, laughing in spite of himself. Here they had been just the night before declaring their unbridled youth and now he was up with the sun, drinking coffee like an old man. Just as well, his mother had always said he was an old soul.

A familiar pang hit his heart at the thought of his mother. He shook his head, not wanting to steal his peace in this moment. But the memories had already been stirred and he needed a distraction. He reached for his phone and pulled up the new contact he’d acquired the day before, a little smile playing at his lips.

_good morning lovino :)_

He placed the phone back on the table, not expecting a reply anytime soon. It was still early, on a Saturday nonetheless. But much to his surprise his phone vibrated just a minute later.

_It’s early. Why are you awake?_

_i‘m enjoying the silence. i didn’t expect you to be up this early either._

He didn’t put the phone down this time, instead he watching the ellipses charting Lovino’s reply. It came quickly.

_I run in the mornings. Not that I owe you an explanation._

Antonio laughed at that. Running, at any time of the day, was not an activity he would ever choose for himself. He typed quickly, not wanting to lose Lovino’s attention.

_i was wondering if that offer to help with the painting still stands? if you aren’t too busy of course ;)_

He watched those little dots eagerly, frowning when they disappeared. Suddenly he was worried that Lovino had in fact changed his mind. Maybe he really was busy. Or maybe he was just being polite, offering his help like that. Maybe he didn’t want to spend any more time than he already had-

His phone buzzed again.

_I’m free. I can come over in an hour since you’re already up._

The smile was back in place immediately, he began typing but was interrupted.

_And don’t send those winking faces. It’s creepy._

Laughing again, Antonio pressed send on his own message, with a small edit.

_see you in an hour :) (not a winky face)_

30 minutes later, Antonio was fully dressed, eating breakfast in the kitchen. Francis shuffled in, still half asleep in his silk pajamas. “Morning.” He nodded at Antonio, going straight for a cup of coffee.

“Morning Francis. Is Gilbert already gone?” Francis poured his cup and immediately took a sip, flinching when it burned. “You do that every day, honestly man you’re going to run out of tastebuds.”

He ignored the comment, blowing slowly before taking his next sip. “Yes, he’s already left. He had some early morning photo shoot scheduled. I think he’s going to be in the studio with Eliza editing for the rest of the day. And I’ve got clients all day, though I’m starting to wish I’d left this weekend free.” He waved one hand. “Doesn’t matter, it would be more trouble than it’s worth to try to reschedule everyone. What about you? Work today?”

Antonio shook his head. “Nah, I’ve got this weekend off. Next weekend though.” Francis nodded, working quickly through his first cup and going to pour another. “Lovino is, um, he’s coming over.” Francis paused and raised one eyebrow. “He’s going to help me paint my room.” He continued sheepishly. Francis hummed thoughtfully at that.

“Well, good luck. He’s got a bad attitude a lot of the time, but he’s a decent guy once he comes around. Just don’t make fun of him and you should be fine.” He started to exit the kitchen, then paused. “Antonio. I’m glad you see the good in him, truly. Just, be careful, okay? Lovino can be a very difficult sort of person. I’ve got nothing against him, but I also don’t want to see you get hurt. He can be… a lot to take on. I support you, just be careful.” Antonio nodded and Francis finally left, leaving him to his breakfast and his thoughts.

After cleaning up his dishes, Antonio went straight to his room to start moving the few things he’d unpacked into the hallway. There wasn’t much, so he made quick work of it. Then he began the tedious job of taping all of the trim in the room. He’d only just finished one wall when the doorbell rang. Immediately he dropped the tape and hurried to the front door, pausing briefly to appear as if he hadn’t been hurrying at all, and then opened it.

Antonio couldn’t understand how a man could make jeans and a white t-shirt look chic, but Lovino did. He blinked twice and then smiled brightly. “Good morning Lovino!”

Lovino nodded awkwardly. “Good morning.”

“Come in! Come in, I just started taping the trim. Do you want something to drink? Or if you haven’t had breakfast yet, I can make you-“

He held up one hand, stopping him. “I’m fine, already ate. We can just go ahead and get started.” Antonio nodded and began heading for his bedroom, when a loud voice interrupted.

“Little Lovi! Back so soon?” Francis, now the picture of elegance, had just entered the living room. He approached Lovino and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ve got clients today so I won’t be in the way. Play nice now children!” Before either of them could respond, he grabbed his keys and was out the door.

“You have interesting choices in roommates.” Lovino commented dryly. Antonio continued the walk to his room, shrugging lightly.

“They’re basically my family now. You take the good with the bad.” Lovino didn’t reply to that, just followed him in and stared critically at the tape already on the walls. “What’s wrong?”

“You did it wrong.”

Antonio frowned. “No I didn’t.”

“You did. Look.” He grabbed a roll of tape and pulled a strip off. “When you press it entirely onto the trim, all that does is make it harder to get off later. Plus, you’re not getting very close to the wall this way. But when you do it like this-” He lined the tape up against the wall, taking care to only pat down the small part that actually touched the top of the trim, leaving the rest of it extending out. “It’s a more exact taping. Plus it’ll catch any paint that might drip on the floor.” He didn’t even look at Antonio when he started pulling up the original job. He crouched to the floor, his white shirt riding up his back just so. Antonio found himself captivated, watching Lovino work, eying the smooth skin under the shirt that just kept riding higher and higher-

Antonio groaned, rubbing his eyes with both hands. Lovino’s head turned and he stared quizzically at the man standing in the doorway, palms pressed against his eyes. He stood from his crouch, still staring, unsure what was happening. Finally he took the ball of tape he’d been wadding up in his hand and pegged it. His aim was good, it hit right in the middle of Antonio’s forehead. “The fuck are you doing? We’re playing hide and seek now?”

He slowly removed his hands from his face, rearranging his features. “Sorry, just a little headache. I’m going to get some aspirin and I’ll be right back.” Lovino watched him hurry out of the room, puzzled, before shrugging his shoulders and continuing to pull tape.

In the kitchen, Antonio poured a glass water, chugging half of it in one go. He leaned up against the island, clutching his drink. “Get ahold of yourself man,” he whispered, pressing the cold glass against his cheek. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had boyfriends before; he was 23, a few relationships had come and gone. He was experienced enough; honestly he was a grown man! Now suddenly reduced to hiding in the kitchen like he was 15 again? No, that had to end now. He put the glass down, took a deep breath, and headed back for his bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Antonio was grateful beyond words for Lovino. When he decided to paint his room, he thought it would be straightforward and simple- just paint and carry on. But Lovino had very obviously done this before. He managed to stop Antonio from making more than one mistake that would’ve cost him a lot of time and effort. And he taught him a few tricks to make the job more precise and much easier. In just a couple of hours they’d put a first coat on 2/3 of the room. The big window was open, bringing in the smells of mowed grass to mix with the smell of paint. Lovino had been in charge of music for a while, until Antonio finally couldn’t take the indie soundtracks anymore and begged Lovino to let him change it. He’d acted mad for a few minutes, but Antonio could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Antonio laughed at his attempt at the silent treatment and much to his surprise, Lovino laughed too.

One of his Spanish playlists filtered through the speakers now, a gentle background to their conversation. “So how did you even meet Francis and Gilbert?” Lovino asked, dipping his paint roller in the container beside him.

“In college, briefly.” Lovino glanced over at him, one eyebrow raised. There was paint splattered on his face little specks like freckles all over his cheeks and Antonio’s stomach dropped. He cleared his throat briefly, regaining control. “Yeah, I only went for a little while. Just one semester when I was 20. I ended up in an acting class with both of them.” Lovino snorted and Antonio grinned at him. “I know, can you imagine? We all needed an arts credit and that counselor had no idea what he was doing when he threw us all in there together. The professor didn’t stand a chance.”

Lovino laughed, a sound that was actively becoming Antonio’s favorite. “You stopped going though?”

Antonio shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “It was a while ago. You know how it is when you’ve just turned 20 and you think you’ve got your life figured out. You think everything is going to go a certain way and then it… doesn’t.” He shrugged again, carefully painting around the trim. “And so you adapt. I was lucky. I had to leave school, but Francis and Gilbert stuck with me. They’re good people, they just don’t want anyone to know it.”

“So what do you do then?”

Antonio grinned. “I’m a florist.”

There was a beat of silence. “You are not.”

Antonio shook his head. No one ever believed him when he told them, but he’d worked at the same shop since he was in college. “I am. The shop I work at is downtown, not too far from the studio where Gilbert works actually.”

“You like plants,” Lovino said, almost to himself. And then louder, “Makes sense I guess. Is that what you always wanted to do?”

“No.” Antonio smiled wistfully. “I wanted to be a dance major. That was the plan, anyways. But like I said, things don’t always go as planned. I had to become adaptable, play the hand I’d been given. One of Gilbert’s friends Eliza heard from him, ‘casually’ of course,” the sarcasm wasn’t lost on Lovino, “that I was looking for a job. She’d just opened her studio then and saw the hiring sign in front of the shop, so she passed the information on to me. Back then, it was just the first job I could get. But Emilia- she’s the owner- is kind. She’s one of the most wonderful women I’ve ever met really. She took me in and actually taught me. She taught me about the flowers, about the people, about compassion, and patience, and kindness. Before I knew it, it had become so much more than a job.” He dipped his brush in the paint again, a soft smile playing on his lips. He’d been at her shop for almost three happy years and fully expected to spend many more. “It wasn’t my plan but it worked out, you see. So I can’t complain.”

Lovino hummed along to the song that was playing for a few moments, thinking. When he finally spoke, Antonio was right beside him getting the more detailed spot just above his head. Lovino breathed in the scent of cologne and coffee and something else he couldn’t quite place. It made him dizzy. “So no more dancing then?”

For no real reason the sound of Antonio’s laughter right beside his ear shocked him so much that he dropped the paint roller in his hand. A streak of paint ended up on his shirt, and just a bit on his jeans. The laughter went from a harmless chuckle to proper laughter in seconds. He cursed loudly, fumbling to pick the roller back up. Lovino could feel himself blushing furiously, and Antonio was _still_ _fucking laughing._ “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m being rude, I didn’t mean to scare you. You just jumped so hard.” He put his own brush down and then put both hands on his knees, gasping for air in between giggles. Lovino felt anger rising up in him.

“Shut the hell up you bastard! It’s not fucking funny!” He crossed his arms over his chest, forgetting about the wet paint on his shirt. “Fuck! Stop laughing!” Antonio finally stood up and saw the look of fury on Lovino’s face. A part of him thought idly that he was digging one hell of a hole for himself.

“Lovino.” He said finally, erasing all traces of laughter. He reached out and placed one hand on Lovino’s bicep, a hint of a smile still tracing his lips. “I’m sorry, I’m really not making fun of you. Just the look on your face, you were so thrown.” Lovino jerked away from his touch and Antonio put both hands up in surrender. “Seriously, I’m sorry, no more laughing. I promise. It was very rude of me to laugh, would you please forgive me?”

Lovino stared, once again captivated by this man. He was the picture of sincerity, nothing but remorse and kindness painted across his face. A long beat of silence passed, Lovino contemplating and definitely not admiring the way Antonio looked in a ragged pair of jeans and an even more ragged looking button up, the top two buttons left open to reveal just the right hint of-

“Fine!” He spat the word out and immediately Antonio grinned. Lovino held up one finger, annoyance still coloring his features, “You’re forgiven. But your music privileges have been revoked.” The smile didn’t disappear, he just shrugged, passed his phone over. Lovino scrolled through the playlists in disgust. “These suck. Seriously, you have no taste.”

Antonio placed one hand over his heart mockingly. “You wound me.” Lovino didn’t acknowledge him, just typed quickly into his phone and tapped, interrupting the current song. The new one started, only vaguely familiar to Antonio.

_Scar tissue that I wish you saw_

_Sarcastic mister know-it-all_

_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause_

_With the birds I'll share_

He furrowed his eyebrows, thinking while he accepted the phone back from Lovino. “What is this?”

“Red Hot Chili Peppers.” Lovino’s lips quirked up at Antonio. “They’re good, it’s a good song.” Before he could think any harder, Antonio reached out and grabbed Lovino’s hand. “What are you doing?!” He yelled, half-heartedly resisting when Antonio pulled him in and place his other hand on his waist.

“You asked me if I quit dancing.” Antonio replied, easily pulling Lovino closer and spinning them both away from the wet walls, not minding in the least that the paint from Lovino’s shirt was spreading to his own.

“You can’t dance to this kind of song, idiot.” He dragged his feet a bit, trying to resist Antonio’s lead.

“You can dance to anything, if you really want to,” Antonio replied with grin. “And for the record, the answer is no, I didn’t quit. I dance every chance I get.” Lovino was trying very hard to hold back the smile creeping up on his face, his other hand still hovering over Antonio’s shoulder. “But what about you Lovino? Do you dance?”

As if a flip had been switched, the look on Lovino’s face changed from indecisive amusement to absolute determination. “Are you kidding me? I’m Italian, of course I fucking dance.” And just like that, one hand was on his shoulder, and the grip on Antonio’s hand tightened. He let Antonio lead, but to his very sincere surprise, Lovino followed every step perfectly. Nothing could throw him. Not a dip, not a spin. Every time Antonio changed it up, Lovino’s feet were right there, his body moving with effortless grace. Their eyes stayed locked, Antonio searched his hazel eyes for any sign of hesitation or faltering, but all he found was absolute confidence. It was easily the most fun he’d had dancing in a long time. 

_With the birds I'll share this lonely view'_

_With the birds I'll share this lonely view_

_With the birds I'll share this lonely view_

Antonio finished with one last twirl, going still as soon as his hand was on Lovino’s waist a final time. They both were breathing a bit heavily, neither of them moving away as the song came to an end. “You’re a good dancer,” Antonio breathed, gently brushing a bit of hair from Lovino’s forehead. He replied with a saucy grin.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He didn’t make any move to stop Antonio from touching him, but finally released his hand and took a step back. “You know we’ve got to finish that wall if we’re going to do a second coat today.” Antonio sighed but nodded all the same. His room being finished was the least of his concerns right now. If anything, the longer he could drag this out, the better. Lovino had already resumed painting, appearing completely unruffled like nothing had even happened. Antonio was almost offended, had Lovino really felt nothing? Was he really the only one feeling sparks? What if Francis was wrong and he didn’t even like guys? Oh god, he was turning into Gilbert. He felt nauseous. He had to say something.

“So, um, what do you like? Um, I mean, do? Like for work? What do you do for work?” He suddenly felt incredibly awkward, but Lovino didn’t even look at him.

“Well,” he paused, taking a step back to check his work, “I graduated a couple of years ago with a Bachelor’s in Interior Design and a minor in Art Appreciation. So, sometimes I get to use that degree for magazines. I create designs for them to photograph and breakdown in their home improvement articles. And I do design work in homes, almost always for a company but every once in a while for a particularly wealthy client. My job is to design the home in a way that appeals to target buyers, so when they come and view the home, they can see the potential it has.” A sigh escaped from his lips, confusing Antonio. “But mostly I work for my grandad.”

“Your grandad?”

“Yeah.” He still wouldn’t look away from his painting. “He’s kind of a big name in the art industry.” Antonio thought carefully, trying to figure out who Lovino was talking about without directly asking. Lovino rolled a white spot of the wall with particular vigor and then finally, he softly spoke. “Vargas.”

Antonio’s lips pursed, “Vargas? Hmm Vargas, that’s not ringing any- wait. You’re not telling me your grandfather is Roma Vargas?” Lovino nodded, finally facing him. “You work for him?”

“I do.”

“Francis never told me he’s related to Roma Vargas.”

Lovino scoffed at that. “Well he’s not. Francis is my cousin on my dad’s side. Roma is my mother’s father.”

Antonio considered that and really considered the man in front of him. It wasn’t like he knew all that much about art, but he knew enough to know that this grandfather Lovino spoke of was a much bigger deal than he was making him out to be. “So what do you do for him?”

“Mostly I locate and purchase art work him to sell. If you know anything about him, you know he mainly specializes in the showcasing and selling of pieces. I’m one of the main people who tracks down those pieces.”

“But,” Antonio faltered, unsure if he was stepping into delicate territory. Lovino held eye contact this time, waiting for him to continue, “You said your degree is in Interior Design.”

There was a pause. “It is.”

“Then why do you work for your grandpa?” Something in Antonio’s head told him really should lay off and change the subject, but he plowed ahead anyways. “Do you not like interior design as much as you thought you would?”

“No it’s not that, it’s just-” Lovino blew out a breath of frustration. “You have to understand. I’ve been doing this for _years_. Me and Feli both. And we make one hell of a team. See, I’m great at tracking down artists, finding the pieces that are actually worth something and then haggling for the lowest price possible. And then Feliciano, the charming little bastard, can track down buyers who will buy the same piece for the highest amount possible. Swear to God, he can sell anything. And usually we can do this simultaneously. If I go meet an artist, Feli already is already sweet talking a buyer. If someone tells him they’re looking for a piece, I’ve already got three artists that fit the description. So basically, we maximize profit. We’ve got this really successful system that we’ve fine-tuned over the years. Three years ago, Grandpa’s profits were double what they were the year before Feli and I started working for him. I’m not being arrogant here, I promise. This is just something I’m really really good at.”

Antonio nodded, thinking about everything he’d said. “I hear what you’re saying, but do you love it?”

“Pardon?”

“The job with your grandpa,” Antonio gestured with the paintbrush he’d finally picked back up. “Do you love it?”

Lovino appeared thrown. “Well no.” he frowned, hands going still for a moment. “I don’t love it. But it’s a job. It pays well and I’m good at it.”

Antonio hummed, crouching down to paint along the taped trim. “That’s no way to live.”

Lovino immediately bristled at that. “You’re one to talk, you’re not doing what you love!”

“Yes I am.”

“You _just_ said-“

“That I wanted to be a dance major, yes.” Antonio finished smoothly, painting delicately under the big window now. “I did. To be fair, I still do. Dance is something that I’m passionate about. That will never change. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love my job. I really love what I do. I enjoy going to work, and almost every aspect involved with it. I’m happy. Can you say the same?”

Lovino was staring now. “It’s not that simple.”

“So help me to understand.” He didn’t meet Lovino’s gaze, quite honestly too scared that he’d pushed too far and offended the man. Any second now, he expected Lovino to walk out and not come back. But finally, he heard him huff, and the sounds of paint coating the wall continued.

“I don’t hate the job. I’m not miserable. Do I love it? No. But it’s not a bad place for me. I am passionate about interior design- I’m good at it too. And it pays well, just like my grandad’s job. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that money means nothing to me, because that’s not true. It’s not everything, but it’s sure as hell not nothing. So both options seem to run in the same vein, right?” Antonio finally risked a glance over. Lovino finished the last bit of wall that he could paint with the roller brush. He placed it gently in the container and stepped back, taking a good look around the room. Then, he place both hands on his hips and put his full focus on Antonio, fire blazing in his eyes. “So what’s the difference, right? It’s this- That in the place of passion, my Grandpa’s job is offers me my family.” Understanding began to dawn on Antonio’s face. “My whole family works this business. My parents are in charge of coordinating and facilitating events- the showcases, auctions, parties, whatever. Feli and I, we’re the products team. I’ve got uncles, aunts, and cousins that all work for him too. It’s a family business, Antonio. So,” He gestured helplessly with both his hands.

“So how do you choose?” Antonio finished softly, painting one last stroke beneath the window. He set the brush down and stood to face Lovino in the middle of the room. “The choice between passion and family. A rock and a hard place, yes? Because what’s a life without either?” A small, almost bitter laugh came from his lips. “The lucky ones never have to make that choice. For you Lovino, I hope that somehow you can have both.” Antonio stepped past him, heading for the door. “That’s the first coat done, we’ll have to let it dry. Come with me, I’ll make lunch.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the kitchen, Lovino sat at the island while Antonio dug through the pantry. “There’s really not much right now, we need to do a proper grocery run. Do you like pesto?” Lovino shrugged, uncaring.

“It doesn’t really matter, I’m not picky.” Antonio came out with a box of dried pasta. He grabbed a jar of pesto sauce from the fridge and carried them both over to the stove.

“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” he teased. Then he idly scratched the back of his head, worrying over the food. “It won’t be great, but it’ll be something I guess.” He quickly set a pot of water to boil and turned his attention back on Lovino. “We’ve got wine though, would you like a glass?”

“What kind?” In the timespan from his room to the kitchen, Lovino had transformed into this elegant little creature, sitting in his tall chair, posture immaculate, one leg crossed over the other. Antonio once again wondered how a man could make painting clothes look chic and refined.

“Umm, I think we have both red and white. Honestly, we might have a bottle of Rosé. It’s all French though.” Lovino’s nose crinkled and Antonio laughed. “I thought you might feel that way. Francis buys wine more often than I do, and drinks it much slower.”

“Didn’t take you for a drunk,” Lovino teased in return, idly brushing his hair from his face. Antonio watched, entranced by these graceful movements. “Go ahead with the white then, I think it’s a bit early for red anyways.” His free hand fluttered aimlessly. Antonio nodded sharply, busying himself with retrieving the bottle and the glasses. He placed both glasses in front of Lovino and poured carefully, trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. Lovino lifted his glass easily, titling it towards Antonio. “Well, cheers then.” He took a small sip, eyes fluttering shut as he let the taste settle in. Antonio couldn’t break his stare, his eyes traced the delicate features of Lovino’s face, the lightly patterned freckles across his nose, down past the V-neck of his shirt, to the perfectly sculpted collarbones that were revealed. Lovino’s eyes suddenly opened and Antonio had to bite back a gasp. “It’s not bad. It’s not Italian, but it’s not bad.” Antonio took a drink from his own glass, not bothering to focus on the taste. He just desperately needed something to do.

“So, um, what do you like to do for fun?” Antonio had already turned away, putting way more attention than was necessary on the now boiling water. Lovino hid the little grin that was playing at his lips behind another sip from the glass, eyes never leaving the back of Antonio’s head.

“That’s a very broad question, I do all kinds of things for fun.” His voice held a complete air of innocence, but his smirk grew when he saw Antonio’s back stiffen. “You’ll have to be more specific.” Really, it was cruel how much he was enjoying himself, but Lovino just couldn’t help it.

“Fine, well, um.” Finally Antonio turned back around and Lovino quickly rearranged his features back into politely interested. “Okay, tell me about something fun or exciting that you’ve done then.” Lovino contemplated that for a moment, head tilted ever so slightly, his wine glass still perched in his hand. Antonio was making his way through his own glass way too fast, he began forcing himself to focus on smaller sips.

“I went skydiving once.” Antonio froze at that.

“Skydiving?” He placed the glass down on the counter and folded his arms on the counter, leaning towards Lovino. “Really?”

Lovino put his own glass down, casually resting his chin in his hand, leaning ever so slightly forward himself. “Really.” He lowered his tone slightly, forcing Antonio to listen closer. “It was a year or so ago. This guy I was seeing at the time convinced me, called it a birthday present.” Lovino scoffed, one finger tapping against his chin. “It’s not exactly my idea of a gift, but I went anyways. It was a hell of a rush, I’ll give him that. I’m not particularly inclined to do it again though.”

“I don’t believe in that sort of thing.” Antonio’s response threw Lovino for a moment. He straightened up in his chair, staring quizzically at the man before him.

“That sort of thing?”

“Yeah.” Antonio turned around briefly to stir the pasta, and then he was facing him again, leaning casually against the counter. “The whole near death experience. The adrenaline. The rush. The risking your life just for the hell of it. I don’t believe in it.”

Lovino chuckled, still a bit thrown, but enjoying himself nonetheless. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t think adrenaline is entirely human. It’s like,” he paused for a moment, trying to think of the right word. Then, he snapped, “Like superheroes.”

“Superheroes?”

“Yes, like superheroes. The rush, that whole adrenaline thing, it’s designed for self-preservation, right?” Lovino nodded. “And in that context, it’s good. Necessary; lifesaving even. Because that’s exactly what it’s designed for right? This concept the fight or flight. I don’t believe in chasing that though, because I don’t believe that’s what this life is about. Chasing that rush, well to me it seems a lot like drugs. That’s what adrenaline junkies call it anyways, the ‘high’ or whatever. Not that I’m particularly against being high. But I don’t chase it.” He shrugged slightly. Honestly he found the whole concept somewhat distasteful, but he was speaking carefully. It wouldn’t be worth getting all worked up over a simple opinion.

Lovino hummed thoughtfully, tracing the rim of his glass with one finger while he took in everything Antonio had said. “So what do you believe in, then?”

“I believe in wine.” Lovino laughed out loud and Antonio felt his heart flutter in his chest. He took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. “I believe in wine and dancing. And laughter. As much as possible.” Lovino’s eyes were locked with Antonio’s. “I chase fulfillment, Lovino. I live my life in pursuit of things that make me feel entirely human. I believe in warmth and sunshine; in summer nights with friends. In road trips and the beach.” Antonio sighed. “Especially the beach. I believe in good music and good food and finding love.” Lovino was absolutely still. He’d cupped his neck with one hand, elbow resting on the countertop, hanging on to every word. The afternoon sun had begun filtering in to the kitchen. Antonio appreciated the way it danced through Lovino’s hair, highlighting all the little touches of blond and red. It kissed his skin, turning it like honey. In the brief silence, Lovino smiled at him. And Antonio swore he died right there. “Mostly I believe in love.”

Steam was rising from the oven now, the boiling water quickly becoming more and more frantic. Antonio contemplated just letting it go, leaving it to bubble over and out until all the water had evaporated. But no, that wasn’t a real option here. So, regretfully, he turned away to lower the heat and stir.

“Hey, um, I’m going to use the bathroom, I’ll be back.” Lovino didn’t wait for a reply and exited the kitchen without another word.

Antonio suddenly felt very very stupid. True, Lovino had admitted to dating men in the past, which was a victory in itself. But Antonio had only just met him! Francis had explicitly told him to be careful and here was Antonio just baring his soul to the man. Sure, he couldn’t deny the immediate attraction and affection he felt for Lovino. But that didn’t mean Lovino felt the same. He was probably in the bathroom asking his brother to call with some emergency so that he could leave. Antonio shook his head firmly, deeply annoyed with himself. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand to avoid spilling any hot water on himself. Today wasn’t the day for an accident.

By the time Lovino returned, Antonio was stirring the pesto in. He quickly filled two plates and passed one over to Lovino. The conversation stayed light and easy for the rest of the meal. By the time they were back in Antonio’s room, he had calmed down quite a bit. Lovino seemed entirely at ease and so he did his best to follow suit.

Time was passing much faster now; painting the second coat felt much easier than the first. Lovino didn’t protest when Antonio put on one of his more gentle playlists- the music flowed in time to the afternoon breeze. By 2:00, they’d double checked every spot and the room was finished. Antonio stepped all the way back into his closet to get a full look of the room. “I love it. Seriously Lovino, thank you so much, this would’ve been a nightmare without you.” Lovino only shrugged and began pulling off the tape (it was much easier this time) without being asked. Antonio got one more look in before starting on the higher trim (Lovino wouldn’t admit it, but he needed a stool to reach that high, Antonio could do it if he stretched on his toes).

Finally, that was every job done, minus returning the furniture, but that couldn’t be done until the room had time to dry and air out. He told Lovino not to worry about it. He could always make Gilbert help him later if he really needed it.

“Right, well that was finished in good time, you’ve still got the better part of your day left.” Lovino was glancing around the living room, trying to remember where he’d left his keys. “Got anything else planned?”

Antonio shook his head, noticing the keys on the coffee table. “No, nothing really. Probably a nap honestly,” he admitted sheepishly, holding the keys out to Lovino. “And then I’ll make Gilbert help me move my shit back in my room. But that’s about it. And you?”

“Nothing planned.” He was standing still now, spinning the keys on his finger. “There’s always work to do for Grandpa though, so if I don’t have anything else to do, I’ll probably end up over there.” A light blush was beginning to dust over his cheeks. Antonio smiled warmly.

“Or you could work on some designs, no? Build up your portfolio?” The blush darkened, much to Antonio’s confusion.

“Right, yeah, sure.” Lovino coughed into his fist. “I’ll uh- yeah. Portfolio, right.” He turned and headed for the door.

“Oh! Lovino, wait!” He eagerly turned back around at the sound of Antonio’s voice. “I just wanted to tell you thanks again. Seriously, I really appreciate it. If there’s anything you need help with, let me know. I’d love to return the favor!” A sigh escaped Lovino’s lips as he nodded, that blush refusing to move. Antonio grinned at him happily. “Have a great day Lovi, I really enjoyed today.”

Lovino bit his lip, almost as if he wanted to say something else. But instead he simply raised one hand, fluttering his fingers in goodbye, and firmly shut the door behind him. Antonio watched through the window to make sure he got to his car safely, then tiredly rubbed his eyes. The couch suddenly looked like the most inviting thing in the world. He didn’t think too hard, just threw himself on it, and curled up under the throw blanket Francis had put there. The cool, dark living room soothed him to sleep in almost seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

Something was tickling his nose. Still half-asleep, Antonio brushed it away. Then it happened again. And then again. Finally, he groaned and barely opened his eyes to find Gilbert’s face two inches away from his own. “Gah!” He yanked the blanket over his head, trying to avoid the stare. “Gilbert what the fuck man?”

He laughed, unfazed. “It’s like 4:00, you need to wake up.” Antonio didn’t respond, just curled up tighter underneath the blanket. For one sweet moment, he thought Gilbert had given up. Then the moment ended.

“WAKE THE FUCK UP.” Gilbert fell, laughing, on top of Antonio, pulling mercilessly at his blanket. “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup-” Antonio groaned again, trying to shove Gilbert off of him without any real success.

“Okay fine! I’m awake. Jesus, now will you get off me?”

The blanket had ended up on the floor and Gilbert perched his elbows on Antonio’s chest. “Not yet. And don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.” Antonio rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. He knew how it would end anyways. “Sooo?” Gilbert smiled sweetly, resting his cheek on one of his fists. Antonio winced at his elbow digging in.

“So what?”

Gilbert huffed. “So did you kiss Lovino or not? Francis told me he was coming over.” The shock must have registered on his face because Gilbert shook his head and finally climbed off, shoving Antonio’s legs to make room. He obliged, still gazing at Gilbert in confusion.

“No I didn’t kiss him. He came over to help me paint, not on a date.” Gilbert snorted at that.

“Listen, I’ve met Lovino before. He’s bought a couple of pieces from Eliza for his grandpa. And I know that he’s an asshole to pretty much everyone outside of a business setting. If he’s coming over to ‘help you paint’,” he put finger quotes up in the air, “It’s because he likes you. So why didn’t you kiss him?”

Antonio relayed the details of the day to his best friend, from texting him that morning all the way to when he left a few hours before. “I was worried that I was coming across to strongly, you know? I didn’t want to freak him out, we just met!” Gilbert, who had been listening intently, had his face buried in a pillow. “What? Gilbert, what?” He didn’t reply for a long minute, much to Antonio’s annoyance.

Finally, he lifted his head, eyes still shut. “Antonio. You are so fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me?” Honestly, at this point he’d had enough. First Gilbert wakes him up, then interrogates him, and now he’s calling him stupid? He opened his mouth to defend himself when the pillow in Gil’s lap suddenly smacked him across the face.

“Stupid! You’re stupid! I love you Antonio. Really I do, that’s why I’m telling you this. I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t beat at least a little sense into you.” The pillow came flying at him again, but this time Antonio managed to block it with one arm. “Lovino was _trying_ to get you to make plans with him, _Dummkopf._ Why do you think he was asking you what you were going to be doing? He literally made it a point to let you know he was free!” The pillow was back, hitting him on the side of the face. Antonio made a grab for it and chucked it across the room. It hit a stack of boxes beside the television and knocked the top one to the ground. There was a loud crash and both men winced.

“I won’t tell Francis if you don’t.” Antonio said quickly, thinking that the crash had sounded suspiciously like glass breaking. Gilbert immediately nodded and they locked pinkies. A beat of silence passed and then Antonio glanced over. “You’re right.” He ran both his hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled than it already was. “Goddammit, you’re right. I am so stupid.”

Gilbert patted him kindly on the shoulder. “Watch the profanity.”

Antonio glared. “ _Gosh_ you fucking prick.” Then he sighed, letting his head fall into Gilbert’s lap. “What do I do now?” Gilbert’s hands began softly running through his wild hair.

“It’s not the end of the world. The bad news is that you missed a really easy chance to ask him out.”

“Not helping,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“The _good_ news,” Gilbert pressed on, ignoring the interruption, “Is that we know he likes you and wants to go out with you. So, more than likely, he’s going to say yes when you ask.”

“How come I have to ask?” Antonio whined, now annoyed that Lovino hadn’t just asked him outright. He had never quite gotten the hang of nonverbal cues, most of the time he didn’t catch on until it was spelled out for him.

The hands moving through his hair paused. “Ha! Because Lovino’s a fucking princess, that’s why. If you want him, you’re going to have to go get him.” He resumed working his fingers through Antonio’s hair, “You know, you should ask Francis to do something about this. You really need a haircut.” Antonio swatted lightly at Gilbert’s hands, but didn’t make any effort to actually move away. “Damn, you’re being a baby. Give me your phone.”

At that, Antonio finally sat up, wincing when Gilbert’s fingers got caught up in his curls. “What do you want my phone for?” He asked, rubbing his scalp.

“Just give it, I’m doing you a favor.” Gilbert extended his palm, waiting. Antonio briefly considered refusing, but he knew a lost cause when he saw one. He surrendered the phone and Gilbert immediately unlocked it and went to typing. “Okay, what’s better? ‘Hey, I just took woke up and I had the craziest dream about us’ or ‘Hey, I realized my room is missing something- you’ with a winky face?”

This was a nightmare, that’s what was happening. He was actually still asleep on the couch and Gilbert was still at work. But even after he squeezed his eyes shut and counted to five, Gilbert was still there, holding his phone. “Okay, no. Neither. First off, Lovino doesn’t like the winking face. Second, both of those messages suck.”

Gilbert ‘tsked’ at him and deleted the message. “Okay fine, what about just a getting to the point, ‘I can’t stop thinking about you’? Ha, or you could really take a dive and send, “I really want to fuck-“

“OKAAAYY, we’re done.” He snatched the phone back, glancing at the screen to make sure the text box was empty. “Absolutely not. No. Look, I’m just going to call him, see if maybe he wants to get dinner or something.” He rose from the couch, pausing to stretch.

Gilbert poked his tongue out. “That sucks though. You’re a walking cliché Antonio.” He firmly planted his hand on Gilbert’s forehead and shoved him back onto the cushions.

“At least I’m doing something. You still haven’t asked Roderich out. Sounds like I’m winning.” He winked and left Gilbert behind him spluttering and making excuses. Through the kitchen and out the back door, he stepped into the hottest part of the day.

Antonio didn’t bother sitting, already feeling way too nervous for that. He didn’t waste any time, in case he chickened out, just pulled up Lovino’s contact information, and hit the little call icon.

_*Ring*_

_*Ring*_

_*Ring*_

_*Ri-*_

“This is Vargas.”

Antonio felt his breath catch in his throat. “Um, Lovino?”

“Antonio?” There was some brief rustling and a muffled, ‘I’ll be right back’. “Hey, sorry I’m waiting on a call from a client, I didn’t check before I answered.”

“Oh, okay. So you’re, um, you’re at your grandpa’s studio then?” His phone felt hot against his cheek. Quickly he pulled it away, switched to speakerphone, and set the phone down on the patio table. His hands were free now at least. Antonio couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

“Well, yeah. I told you I was going to head over here if I didn’t have anything else to do.”

“Oh.”

“Um, yeah.” Lovino cleared his throat. “Sorry, what did you need? I’m here with Feliciano and this call is going to come through any minute.” Okay, so empty hands weren’t a good thing. First he ran his hands through his hair. Then he crossed his arms. Then he uncrossed his arms. Then he put his hands in his pockets. “Antonio?”

“Right, right, sorry.” God, if Gilbert were out here right now he’d have smacked him already. “Listen, I don’t know if you’ve got any plans after your meeting- um if you’re planning on being finished anytime soon that is. If you aren’t I understand because I get how crazy work can be and how unpredictable and, and-” Antonio shook his head one good time and exhaled a deep breath. “Can I take you to dinner? Tonight?”

There was silence on the line and Antonio’s stomach was in knots. This was a mistake. This was a massive mistake, Lovino was going to laugh at him, or yell at him, or hang up and block his number. He’d totally misread everything today and jumped the gun entirely. Why did he listen to Gilbert? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Sorry, I had to check something. I’ll be finishing up here in a while and then I’m free after that. Is 6:30 good for you?” He was dreaming, for real this time. He had to be. He’d only fooled himself earlier, surely. This time he really would wake up. Again, Antonio squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to find himself on the couch.

But he was still in the summer air, Lovino waiting impatiently for a response. “Absolutely. 6:30 is great. Did you want me to pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure that’s fine. Hey, my client is calling, I’ve got to let you go. I’ll text you my address. See you at 6:30.” The call ended before Antonio could say another word, but it didn’t matter, his heart was soaring. He checked the time on his phone- 4:30. And he was still covered in paint.

“GILBERT.” He raced into the house, frantic and thrilled.

“Okay, perfect.” They were back in the living room and Gilbert’s face was entirely serious. He pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call. “Francis is wrapping up his last client, so he’ll be here in about 20 minutes. You’re gross and need a shower. So that’s your job, you need to be in and out before Francis gets here. I’m going to get started on picking your outfit, where are your clothes?”

Antonio smiled sheepishly. “In the boxes labeled clothes?” Gilbert groaned and pointed towards the bathroom.

“Go. Be thankful I care about your sloppy ass. And wash your hair!”

He did his best to rush through the shower, but the paint wasn’t coming off easily. By the time he shut off the steaming water and wrapped a towel around his waist, he could hear Francis in the hallway.

“Jesus Christ, what did he do? Roll all his clothes in a ball and just toss them in?” Unfortunately, that was very similar to the truth.

“Stop saying that!”

“Sorry. _Mon Dieu,_ better?”

“I don’t know what that means but it doesn’t give off good vibes so no.”

Antonio opened the door to reveal what looked like an explosion of clothes in the hallway. Francis was currently digging through an open box. “Explain to me again why you can say ‘Punk ass motherfucker’ but not ‘Dear God’.” Gilbert opened his mouth to retort and then caught sight of Antonio.

“Later. Right now we’ve got more important things to worry about. Go deal with his hair, I’ll get some options and bring them in for you to see.” Francis nodded seriously and took Antonio by the arm.

“Come along dear. We have got work to do.”

Francis had the biggest bathroom out of the three, and there wasn’t a question as to why. Filling the extra shelves and drawers were more beauty products than Antonio knew what one could possibly do with. “Sit.” Francis directed him to the plush stool directly in front of the mirror and reached for his blow dryer first. “We do not have a lot of time so you don’t get to fight me. I am going to trim- _trim_ not cut,” he added, noticing the look of panic already rising on Antonio’s face, “and then I will style. Ready?” Antonio nodded and the blow dryer was switched on.

The way Francis could multi-task was incredible. Alternating with the blow dryer, he was carefully using a round brush to maximize every curl, all the while Gilbert was coming in and out with outfit options, taking in Francis’ rulings. “Antonio, give me something to work with. Do you want to wear black or white?” He contemplated that briefly, wondering if there was a wrong answer here.

“Umm, white.”

Francis nodded approvingly. “Agreed. Alright Gilbert, pair that white V-neck with his denim jacket- not the distressed one, the dark one. And track down a pair of black joggers. If he doesn’t have any, take a pair of mine. Then I am going to need you to pick a pair of shoes.” Gilbert disappeared again and Francis glanced at his watch. “5:15. We are making excellent time, love.” He patted Antonio lovingly on the cheek and finally moved on to a comb and scissors. “Really there is not much to cut, your curls are beautiful, if you would just manage them a bit.” He felt the hair falling on his face and resisted the urge to brush it away; it would only break Francis’ concentration.

His hair was ‘styled to perfection’ within another 10 minutes. Antonio had to hand it to Francis, he really did know what he was talking about. Did it mean that he would actually do his own hair ever? Absolutely not. “Okay, now I need you to trust me here. I am going to use a bit of product on your face, but that is only to accentuate your natural beauty, okay?”

Antonio narrowed his eyes at him. “You want to put makeup on me?”

“Hardly. Just a little, I pinky promise.” He extended his pinky and Antonio wrapped his own around it half-heartedly.

“If I hate it, I’m washing it off.”

Francis smiled. “You will not.” He started with the eyebrows, making quick work with a bit of trimming and softly going over them with a pencil. “You really have such nice eyebrows, lucky you.” Next he pulled out a neutral looking eyeshadow palette, layering and blending various shades of brown onto Antonio’s eyelids- adding just a touch of brown eyeliner and mascara. Finally he put the smallest bit of clear lip gloss onto Antonio’s lips. “It is raspberry flavored. Lovino won’t know what hit him.” He added with a wink. Francis examined his work, holding Antonio gently by the chin, turning his face this way and that. After a long minute, he hummed lightly. “Could I convince you though…” He murmured.

“What?”

Francis hesitated, then reached for a little compact behind him. “It’s just, you’ve got these amazing cheekbones and a bit of highlighter would really make them pop.” Antonio contemplated that. He considered Francis before him, holding the compact and a little black brush, and finally sighed.

“Fine, go ahead.” He waved his hand with a flourish.

After another minute, Francis put the products down. “Alright,” he said, his voice layered with excitement, “have a look.” Antonio’s smile felt a bit forced, but nonetheless he stood from the stool, and turned around to get a good look.

To say he felt shocked was a bit of an understatement. He never really let Francis and Gilbert at him like this- he liked to watch them get ready. And sure, they all gave each other advice when they went out or things like that, but in all the years they’d been friends he’d never just let them take control on getting him ready. And now Antonio was starting to wonder what had taken him so long. His hair looked like something out of a magazine and whatever Francis had done to his eyes was making the green sparkle like Antonio had never seen. And the highlight- he couldn’t get enough of turning his head back and forth to see it catch in the light. “So?” Francis asked happily, grinning at him in the mirror.

Antonio’s face lit up into a cheerful smile. “I actually really love it. Seriously, thank you.”

Just then, Gilbert strolled in, the chosen outfit on a hanger in one hand, a pair of white sneakers in the other. “Woah! You look hot, Lovino’s not going to know what hit him tonight!”

Francis laughed. “That is exactly what I said.”

“Well, I’ve got your whole outfit. I ironed it too since apparently wrinkles mean nothing to you.” Antonio rolled his eyes but thanked him all the same. He didn’t bother going anywhere else to change, being naked was just an aspect of their friendship that was unavoidable. Any sense of modesty was lost years ago. Once he was fully dressed, he eyed himself in the mirror while Francis and Gil gave their approval.

“Seems like it’s missing something though, don’t you think?” Antonio asked, putting both hands in his jacket just to see the affect.

Francis cocked his head, looking him up and down. “I think that you’re right. Hmm.” He stared on, thinking. Then he snapped his fingers, “Oh! Okay, do you still have that one necklace? The black crucifix? I think it would pull the whole look together.”

“Yeah, it’s in my car though.”

Francis nodded, “Right, just don’t forget to put it on when you leave. Which, by my count,” he glanced at his watch, “should be right about now. It’s just past 6 and Lovino lives across town.”

“Okay, okay. Okay great, right, yeah I’ll just, yeah, I’ll start to head there. Right.” Antonio spoke quickly but made no move to exit the bathroom. Gilbert and Francis shared a look.

“You good?” Gilbert asked hesitantly.

Antonio nodded, but still made no move to go. “I’m, um, well I guess I’m nervous.”

Francis’ face softened and he reached out to put both hands on Antonio’s shoulders. “That’s fine, it is fine to be nervous. But you still have to go, nervous or not.”

“Yeah.” Gilbert grinned at him from where he sat on the counter. “And hey, I’ll tell you what, if you kiss him tonight, I’ll ask out Roderich.”

Antonio glared. “I only just met him Gilbert!”

Gilbert just laughed, shrugging him off. “But I know that you want to. I’m not saying it has to happen, but if it does,” he shrugged again and Francis shook his head.

“Do not let him pressure you. Just let the night happen however it does. _Love,_ ” he looked pointedly at Gilbert, “cannot be rushed. Now go, enjoy your night.” Francis swiftly pressed a kiss to each of Antonio’s cheeks then gently nudged him towards the door. Antonio nodded, firmly squared his shoulders, and walked out the door. Francis sighed, listening to his footsteps retreat, the front door open, and then finally firmly shut.

Gilbert looked at him and sucked in a breath. “So what do we think?”

Francis sighed, rubbing at a knot in one of his shoulders. “I am really not so sure, Gil. Lovino is not a bad guy, but he truly is a handful. And usually a complete headache. I’m not trying to sound like an ass here, but I am not sure what Antonio sees in him. And I am worried he’s setting himself up for heartache.”

Gilbert nodded, swinging his legs idly. “Yeah, I get it. Antonio has weird taste, that’s not new. But who knows, maybe this is it, you know? Love is no respecter of persons.”

“When did you become so versed in romance? Is this about Roderich?”

Blush flooded Gilbert’s cheeks and he grinned. “Yeah, I guess it is.”


	5. Chapter 5

Antonio slowly pulled his car to the curb of a nice little townhouse. He didn’t immediately get out, just sat with both his hands on the wheel and took a deep breath. He really didn’t understand why he was reacting this way; this evening just seemed like such a _big deal._ With one hand, Antonio loosely grasped the crucifix that hung around his neck and whispered an old prayer- a practice he’d long since stopped believing in but took comfort doing nonetheless. And then, with a deep breath, he shut off his car and headed for the front door.

Three gentle taps on the door later, the door swung open to reveal a grinning Feliciano. “Hello Antonio! Lovino is still getting ready, though that’s pretty much my fault because I made him late leaving today even though he kept telling me that we needed to go. So he’ll probably be another 20 minutes or so.”

Antonio faltered. “Oh okay, I can wait in my car, it’s no problem. I don’t mind.”

“Don’t be silly!” Feliciano waved him in. “Come inside and sit down! I’ll make you some coffee and wait with you!” Antonio liked Feliciano, really. He’d met him a handful of times before and he always enjoyed Feliciano’s loud, cheerful demeanor. “I was so surprised when Lovino came in today!” Feliciano said, gesturing for Antonio to sit at the little table while he prepared the coffee.

“Oh?” Antonio replied, steeling himself just a bit for whatever Feliciano had to say.

“Yeah, it was crazy! He came back in _such_ a good mood, he was whistling and laughing and even singing a little. Usually he’s only like that when he’s drunk. Well that and he dances.” The mental image of Lovino drunk brought a smile to Antonio’s face. “And I knew that he’d been with you all day, which was surprising too because Lovino can’t stand to spend more than a few hours with anyone but me.” The shock must have registered on Antonio’s face because Feliciano laughed. “He must really like you!”

“Um, yeah.” Antonio laughed sheepishly. “I was kind of hoping so.”

Feliciano poured coffee into two brightly colored mugs and carried them both to the table. “Lovino isn’t really a people person usually. He says it’s because people are stupid and make him mad, but that’s not true. It’s really because people make him super anxious and he doesn’t like to feel that way. He’s been that way since we were kids.” He took a long sip of his coffee and then smiled brightly at Antonio. “Apparently he doesn’t feel that way around you though.”

Antonio didn’t know what to say to that, so he just blew lightly on the coffee and took a sip. “This is amazing Feliciano.”

Feliciano waved off the compliment. “Anyone can make coffee.”

“Feli! Have you see my black belt?” Heavy footsteps came down the stairs and a shirtless Lovino entered the kitchen. Antonio gazed wide eyed, taking in every detail. His hair dripped onto his shoulders and his chinos were slung low on his hips. And he still hadn’t noticed Antonio. “I thought I put it back in my closet but I have no idea where-” his eyes met Antonio’s and he froze. “Antonio.” He stood still for another moment before regaining his composure. “I’m so sorry, is it 6:30 already? I’m running just a little behind.” Antonio opened his mouth to reply but Feliciano beat him to it.

“I already told him, don’t worry! And you wore that belt on Friday, so maybe check with the laundry. I thought I saw one in there earlier.” Lovino nodded and quickly hurried out of the kitchen. Antonio watched him disappear and a sigh escaped his lips. “So, Antonio,” Feliciano’s voice recaptured his attention. “Tell me. Is this a date?”

Antonio blinked back at him, unsure what the right answer here was. “Um, well I really hope it is. But I’m not entirely sure.”

Feliciano nodded. “Lovino says it’s a date.” Antonio’s heart soared and suddenly the evening lit up with so many possibilities. He didn’t know what else to say, but Feliciano filled the space with his happy chatter. His stories didn’t require Antonio to say much, and for that he was thankful. Finally, at 6:55, they heard footsteps again. Lovino entered, looking polished with his hair fixed, his white button up rolled to his elbows, with the buttons undone just enough to tease.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ready?” Antonio sprung up, thanking Feliciano for the coffee. Feli waved him off again and gave him a hug. Then he threw his arms around his brother. Antonio saw him whisper something in Lovino’s ear and Lovino’s face immediately flushed. “Fuck off Feli. I’ll see you later, don’t wait up.”

They walked silently to the car, Antonio just a step ahead. Without thinking much of it, he opened the passenger door for Lovino, who promptly glared at him. “I can open my own door.”

Antonio shrugged. “I have no doubt that you can. I was just being polite. If it bothers you though, I won’t do it again.” Lovino just blinked at him, then shook his head, and slid into the seat. Antonio didn’t bother hiding his laughter while he firmly shut the door after him and headed for the driver’s seat. “Is there anywhere specific you wanted to go?”

Lovino shook his head. “Anywhere is fine, as long as the food is good.” Antonio nodded, destination in mind.

“Well, there’s this little Italian place- don’t make that face,” he interrupted upon seeing Lovino’s skeptical expression. “It’s good, I swear. Authentic and everything- family business, the owners are _from_ Italy. They play live music and there’s a vineyard right beside it. And they have the best wine.” Lovino didn’t appear convinced. “Just trust me, yeah?”

He crossed his arms. “Fine.”

***

Antonio parked carefully in the narrow little parking lot and then smiled reassuringly at Lovino. “You’ll love it, I promise _.”_ Together they walked out of the lot towards the walkway and without saying a word, Lovino reached out for Antonio’s hand and laced their fingers together. He almost stumbled, but Lovino didn’t act like anything was out of the ordinary. So he didn’t say anything either, just tried to remain calm as they approached the hostess.

“Good evening! Table for two?” Her accent was unmistakable and before Antonio could answer, Lovino replied in perfect Italian. The hostess’ face lit up and the two of them began chatting. Antonio really had no idea what they were saying, but he was enjoying watching Lovino like this. The combination of the language, his facial expressions, and wild hand gestures was enticing.

After a couple of minutes, the hostess led them to a table outdoors, much to Antonio’s pleasure. “Your waitress will bring some water in a few minutes while you two look over the menu.” The hostess smiled at him and placed menus down before disappearing.

“She said I have good taste in men,” Lovino commented flippantly, already glancing at the menu. Antonio laughed quietly.

“Do you think she’s right?”

“Nope,” he replied promptly. Antonio eyebrows shot up. “I actually have very shitty taste in men,” Lovino continued, looking back up. “I told her that you’re the exception.” Then he was looking back down at the wine section. “Not too early for a red now, I think.”

Antonio was still a bit taken aback. He hadn’t even touched his menu yet and their waitress had arrived with the waters. She introduced herself kindly and asked for their drink orders. “I’d really like to have a taste of this red here, if you don’t mind.” She nodded and then turned her attention to Antonio. He haphazardly picked a white wine that Francis had complimented once, and then she was gone. “The music is lovely.” He commented, nodding at the band playing under the nearby gazebo. “Where’d you hear about this place?”

Finally, Antonio snapped out of it. “Um, Francis I think. He brought us here years ago, though it’s been awhile since I’ve been back. He eats here more than I do, but I think that’s because it’s romantic. So he brings Arthur quite a bit.”

“Arthur’s that British guy, right? Loud with big eyebrows?”

Antonio snorted. “Yeah, that’s Arthur. He’s been with Francis, I don’t know, six months maybe? We don’t exactly get along.” Visions of countless arguments flooded to mind and Antonio tried to control his grimace. “Then again, he and Francis don’t exactly get along either. So beats me how they’re still together.” The waitress was back. She immediately filled Antonio’s glass, and with another bottle poured a small taste into Lovino’s. He sipped, took a moment, and then smiled at her.

“That’s excellent. I’ll have a glass to start with please.”

“And are we ready to order?” Lovino glanced at Antonio, who shook his head.

“Not quite, no. However, could I go ahead and order a cannoli?” If it struck her as odd, she didn’t let on. Just took the order with a promise that it would be out quickly.

Antonio’s confusion, however, was written all over his face. “It’s unusual to start with dessert, don’t you think?” Lovino’s shrug was small, a smile playing at his lips. He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward ever so slightly.

“All the rules about food are made up. There’s no real rules about dessert being last. I like dessert best, so I eat it first.” He winked and Antonio grinned breathlessly back at him. He knew right then and there that he was falling. And he was falling _hard._

The dinner went better than Antonio could have ever hoped. Lovino was charming and beautiful. And an absolutely excellent story teller. Really, Antonio was convinced he could sit there all evening just listening to him talk. Every time Lovino asked him a question, he felt like he wasn’t nearly so interesting. “Like, I _told_ Nonno that we shouldn’t sell her this piece.” He laughed airily, Antonio with him. “This client was so full of it. But he never listens to me.” He chuckled again and leaned back in his seat. “But you. Floral design is such a unique art form. What are your clients like?” He really sounded so genuinely interested, eyes wide, head tilted just so.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Antonio started hesitantly. “Mostly, they’re just honest people. Emilia’s been there with her shop for thirty years, so most of them are regulars. Some come in twice a week to buy flowers for their wives, some come once a week for flowers to put in their house. We’ve done arrangements for small weddings- people that Emilia has known their entire lives. They’re all so kind and they all know me by now. They’re always trying to teach me life lessons too, about working hard and making something of myself.” He smirked. “And they’re always telling me it’s about time I get a girlfriend.”

Lovino raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh? And how’s that working out for you?”

“I think I’m a lost cause.” Antonio reached out to lace his fingers with Lovino’s on the table. “A boyfriend on the other hand…”

Lovino faltered for the first time all evening and Antonio was once again panicked that he’d overstepped. Then he spoke. “Listen, Antonio. This is going to sound very forward, I’m sure. I barely know you. But I just want to make myself clear.” Antonio braced himself for the worst. “I don’t date casually. I’m not saying that I’d like to rush in to anything, but I want you to know that my intentions with you are of the more serious nature. I already like you quite a bit.”

Antonio let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I like you too Lovino. A lot.” A comfortable silence fell over the two of them. When their waitress brought the check, Lovino grabbed it before Antonio could.

“I’ve got it, really.” He paid with cash, and told her to keep the change with a wink. Then his attention was fully back on Antonio. “Come dance with me.”

Antonio grinned. “How much of that wine did you drink? You brother said you only dance when you’re drunk.” Lovino squeezed his hand.

“I danced with you earlier.” Then they were standing and Lovino was pulling him towards the gazebo. “C’mon.” The sun had set and the stars were out. There were a few older couples dancing as well and Lovino pulled him right to the center. “It’s such a nice night.”

“It is.” Antonio agreed. “Nothing better than a nice night with excellent company.”

“And good wine.” Lovino added, eyes twinkling.

Antonio laughed and then spun him. “And good wine, of course.” They danced slowly with the music. Antonio couldn’t contain his smile. Lovino’s arms were draped loosely around his neck and he was chatting away, sounding oddly like his brother.

“Damn.” He finally paused after a couple of songs. “I never talk this much. I guess I drank more than I thought, I’m sorry.” Antonio cupped Lovino’s cheek with one of his hands.

“Never apologize Lovino. I love hearing what you have to say,” he whispered, staring firmly into the other man’s eyes. And before he quite knew what was happening, their lips gently met, once, twice, and again. When Lovino pulled away, Antonio stared breathlessly back at him. “Oh. So that’s what that’s supposed to feel like.”

Lovino pulled him in again; he just couldn’t resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do love this one, I've got several works hiding in my folders but this one is still my favorite. Again, would love to hear from you! And you can find me on tumblr for updates, excerpts, and other Hetalia content (@ jacqueline-linsdel ). Feel free to comment here, or send me an ask there! Thanks so much :)  
> -Jacqueline


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